


An Evening That is Only the Beginning

by RuhRo7



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: From a prompt, I can't remember the story the prompt is from, M/M, Masquerade Ball, if anyone comments the story I will add it, in the tags or recommendations or something
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuhRo7/pseuds/RuhRo7
Summary: So I saved a prompt from a story and this is what came of it! Voldemort and Harry are at a Ministry ball that has ensured the identities of the participants are hidden. They just so happen to meet and we'll see from there!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prompt I copied from a story and saved, I can't remember which story it was so if anyone knows please tell me and I'll be sure to add it!  
> It's set in end of 5th/summer/6th year of school  
> (world have to know Voldemort is back)  
> Ministry of Magic have this great idea of ball with mask to stop war for few days. Of course, main idea is that "if you have fun with people from other side, you don't want to kill them".  
> (All sides of war sould come to that ball)  
> Harry HAS to go, bcx he is Harry of course  
> (it's up to you, if he is happy about that... I doubt he would be)  
> Voldemort WILL go  
> NO ONE will know who is who at ball, that point  
> after ball Daily Prophet will let people know why it was great idea to go to ball, asking dark side to stop killing  
> (how will all react at that it's up to you)  
> Voldemort will ask for next ball, bcx he want to find NICE person (Harry)  
> (after that when and how will they found out who is who it's up to author)  
> Harry will not agree to join/date Voldemort even if he likes him, bcx well Dark Lord => Voldemort is pissed off  
> (and Dark Lord is cruel than before, worse than Dementor)  
> Of course I like good end and them together, but... it up to author... but I think not many people like bad/sad end.  
> Please, have in mind that it will end probably AU and OOC, so not mad about that, people act different when something happen and it should not.

“A ball?” Harry ground out, tossing the invitation down on the Gryffindor table.

“Come on, Harry. It’s how the Ministry is trying to reestablish peace, of course they’d invite you too.” Hermione didn’t even glance up at him, having heard all of his complaints before the invitation even arrived. After all, the key players had been alerted long before the rest of the Wixen World, if they hadn’t already agreed to join there wouldn’t be much point to the shindig.

“Yeah mate, can’t have a war-ending masquerade ball without the savior, the chosen one, the boy who lived to dance!” Ron was cackling. That’s the only word that could sum up such an evil sounding laugh, although Harry was tempted to call it something more diminishing like a giggle or a chitter. But, cackle was truly appropriate. As if sensing his less than favorable thoughts, Ron turned to send a sarcastic grin at Harry.

“I just don’t get why they’d think a dance would do anything to help end a war before it even begins. It’s not like old Moldy will just look at everyone having a grand old time and say, hey you know what? I won’t go and murder them all in their beds because I think love and peace are best now.” Harry laughed at Hermione humming Kumbaya towards the end of his rant. “Yes, Hermione I know that it’s something to do and may make a difference. Shutting up now.” And with that he turned back to his breakfast, poking at the bacon on his plate for a few minutes before piping up yet again, “and another thing…”

“Harry! Enough, you’re going. We got the robes, you’ve finally learned to dance properly, and you’re going.” Hermione’s hair was starting to crackle with the electricity that he knew from experience would be a nasty shock should he continue to complain. He shared a glance with Ron and truly turned back to his breakfast this time. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Without being shocked too many times, and without too much fuss, the day of the masquerade ball finally was upon him. Ron had ensured that Pavarti and Lavender would help Harry to appear to be more than the school boy he was. They had promised over and over to help him look less ‘like a trash heap and more like a real boy’ should he get the supplies they’d sorely need to “fix,” and here they’d just waved at his entire being, ”this.” 

After being poked, prodded, and pushed for more than an hour they finally declared him, “good enough.” Such kind words, his fellows in Gryffindor always know how to improve his self esteem. They then showed him off to the rest of the Gryffindors and pushed him out the portrait hole for good measure. On his way to the Headmaster’s office, where he would be using the Floo to get to the Ministry, he grumbled about witches and madness and a whole hour of getting ready.

“Parma Violets?” Harry called out uncertainly, he’d checked with Hermione how to pronounce the funny sounding sweet that Dumbledore had set as his latest password but he still wasn’t sure. Thankfully he didn’t have to dwell for long, as the gargoyle guarding the stairway began its slow ascent. As the headmaster and him exchanged greetings he couldn’t take his eyes off the robes the older man had chosen. It had become a bit of a joking wager up in the common room, whether Dumbledore would deign to wear something vaguely normal or if he would push the envelope even further. Harry himself had been firmly on the side of “if he wears something too showy everyone will know it’s him, identity hiding magic be damned.” And so it was to his surprise that he saw just how wrong he was. The man was wearing a robe that he swore hit every shade in the rainbow and then some. Then there was the glitter, Harry thought he could vaguely tell that the glitter was set into shapes but frankly the entire thing was hurting his eyes too much for him to really scrutinize it. 

Pushing forward, Harry agreed to Dumbledore’s last safety tips including wearing a portkey, having his invisibility cloak tucked in the pocket Hermione had expanded for him earlier that day, and to not reveal his identity to anyone. With that they were off, Harry stumbling through the floo as he tended to do, followed by an amused Dumbledore who merely helped him steady himself then strode towards the waiting attendants. Harry felt the magical anonymity settle over him as he too headed towards the ballroom, one of the attendants handing him a mask that hovered slightly over his face, just for the aesthetic without ruining the makeup many guests had chosen to wear. 

Entering the ballroom was a shock. When he had been inside the ministry earlier that summer he hadn’t had much of a chance to explore, but he couldn’t have imagined the level of extravagance held in one room. Firstly, it seemed as though the room itself would dwarf the great hall of Hogwarts, as impossible as he’d thought that to be. Then taking into account the extreme show of wealth everywhere with glittering gold and silver catching his Quidditch trained eyes. There were also what seemed to be hundreds of tables all around but the room still felt spacious, with a large enough dance area to accommodate however many guests were invited. 

Harry knew that the order was food then dancing but he kept finding himself more and more nervous about both as he took in all the sights. He was thankful that he’d made such friends in Ron and Hermione, as their friends that they had become close to whenever Harry was serving detention, or off in the Hospital Wing, or even just playing quidditch, had been the sole reason he hadn’t crashed and burned already. Ron had gotten a few of his more posh friends to help Harry learn the basics of fine dining, “lest he makes a fool of himself.”, as was the general consensus. After all, Harry had definitely been raised, if one could call it that, in a different environment. He somewhat doubted they’d be very impressed with his dishwashing and gardening abilities in comparison to their ‘which fork is which’ talents. 

He found himself snapping out of his thoughts at the sound of someone clearing their throat near him. Whirling around, he froze at the sight in front of him. How on earth could anyone be this attractive? Surely this man couldn’t be human, maybe a veela like Fleur or those women at the World Cup? Are there any male veelas? Harry couldn’t think of having heard of one before but that didn’t really mean anything. There was so much he didn't know.

The man was smiling politely at him, “You look a little lost, would you care to join me at my table?” Harry knew he was flushing, he had to be. The man’s image was attractive enough, but that voice! He could listen to that voice all day, or night. He found himself nodding without really thinking about going off with a beautiful stranger, even if he’d have had to have found a table at some point before long. After all dinner would be served soon if the swell of the crowd was anything to go by. The man’s smile widened as he offered Harry his arm. 

As they walked over to a table, neither man pushed the conversation. They let it hang and ripen between them, both knowing they could continue much more comfortably as soon as they reached their seats. The stranger pulled out Harry’s seat for him, a proper gentleman, it seemed, and Harry couldn’t help the warmth on his cheeks at being treated like something delicate for the first time. He could get used to this.

Introductions were a difficult matter, after all, with magic set up specifically to protect your identity it was rather impossible to share anything but a pseudonym. Harry was promptly dubbed “Ry” as those were the last two letters in his name. The gorgeous stranger was similarly named “V”, presumably after some letter in his own name. Harry found V to be an excellent conversationalist. They were laughing and discussing far off places and even lightly flirting, though Harry felt that nothing would come of it. Not with such a handsome person, he wasn’t exactly well known for getting dates back at Hogwarts. 

Before he knew it, they were cycling through the courses. Harry tried to remember what Ron’s friends had drilled into him but he did find himself copying V more than once. The food itself was quite lovely, though he could do without the gold leaf and foie grouse himself. Everything was a beautifully balanced buffet otherwise, with rich sauces and light veggies. He even found himself sharing the dessert with V, as they had both wanted to try the other’s. 

Not long after the final dish was cleared away and Harry truly felt that he could just go back to the castle quite peaceably, the orchestra started up. Dancing. How could he have forgotten the dancing? What’s worse, V asked for his first dance. Harry tried to decline but found himself resignedly heading towards the dancefloor with his companion. Only after securing a promise that V wouldn’t laugh too hard at his struggles did he actually allow the man to take him into his arms. Thankfully, he didn’t really need to worry too much. V was a brilliant dancer, because of course he was. If Harry wasn’t so attracted to the man he could easily hate him for making it look like he did everything with ease. 

One dance turned into two, then three, and finally on their fourth turn about the floor, did Harry feel V begin to lead him away from the crowd. Normally that would cause his hackles to go right up, but he had to admit he could do with a breather. V brought him out to the magically enchanted balcony that seemed to look out over a beautiful garden, though that had to be impossible from the middle of underground London. Far be it from Harry to poke holes in the abilities of magic though, he just took it as it came nowadays. 

“It’s so beautiful out here.” Harry tried to take in all the sights, unlike indoors the garden was far more understated. But there was definitely a magical quality to the view, fairy lights were floating and some of the flowers were glowing in a soft, delicate way. Those were the only sources of illumination besides a mostly full moon hung overhead. Regardless, it was just enough to be able to make out someone close to you but dark enough to obscure those farther away. 

“Very beautiful.” Harry turned back to face V, the man was still focused on him. He could feel his face warming again, the damned flirt. V just smirked down at him, it was, after all, very obvious how flustered Harry was getting from the continued flirting. 

“Of course the view is nothing without you in it. You are worth hundreds of pretty gardens.” Harry figured he may as well try to flirt back, he wasn’t very knowledgeable in the matter but he thought the effort was worth it. He couldn’t just sit back and let the pretty man shoot compliments at him all evening.

“Only hundreds? I must be losing my charm.” The teasing tone sliding through V’s voice was even more difficult to bear when they were in such a romantic setting. 

“Forgive me, V. I underestimated your worth and in doing so, caused grave insult. You’re worth thousands, no millions of pretty gardens and I should have known as much.” This got a laugh out of the man which seemed to shock him. Harry hoped V laughed often but his surprise showed that wasn't the case.

“You’re very cute Ry. I may just have to take you home with me, bring you out when I have to deal with the idiots in my life so you can make it better.” 

“Ah, but V, if you decide to take me then I may become just another one of the idiots and we can’t have that.”

“No we can’t.” Without realizing, the two men had drifted closer and closer. Harry had to look up at a sharp angle to see V’s face which was similarly angled down to look at him. He could feel the warm puffs of V’s breath over his face. He still smelled like the desserts they’d shared. 

“I have to thank you, V. I hadn’t thought that a ball could be as fun as I’ve had tonight. It was really nice to just be myself and not have the pressure I’m normally under hovering over me. And being able to talk to you all evening just made it that much better.”

“What about when you were a kid? Surely you had some sort of childhood to look back on fondly?” Harry had turned back to looking at the gardens again, entranced by the fairies dancing through the air, their light flowing in swooping curls.

“Ha, no it was way worse then. I was just 'freak' or 'boy'. Mountains of chores and punishments to follow was the only consistent part of my childhood. Well, if you don’t count the cupboard that is.”

“Cupboard?” V’s voice was deadly. It managed to startle Harry into realizing with no small amount of mortification that he’d just confessed some of the darkest parts of him, the parts that he hadn’t even told his friends about, to a stranger. 

“Oh my god I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Here we are having a good time and I go ahead and make it depressing. Just please forget I said anything?” Harry knew he was pleading but couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to go back to the lighthearted flirtation and playful banter, not to have brought the mood down with a stupid comment. 

“Ry, please you haven’t ruined anything. Just tell me what you meant and we can go back and pretend it never happened.”

“I.” He squared his shoulders, drawing on his Gryffindor courage. “My “room” before I turned 11 was the cupboard under the stairs. After my Hogwarts letter came, they gave me my cousin’s second bedroom.” 

V’s hands tightened around his shoulders until they were almost painful. The man noticed Harry had frozen under his touch and quickly loosened his grip, rubbing his thumb soothingly over where he had been holding. “See, not too hard. Now I think we were discussing just how beautiful I am and how I’m worth a million gardens.”

Thankfully the duo managed to salvage their mood and they talked until the orchestra started to play the traditional last song of the evening. They looked at each other, neither really wanting to leave and go back to their everyday lives, but neither willing to share their true identities so they could continue this later. 

“Ry, could I kiss you?” V had already leaned in, so assured of Harry’s response that asking was just a formality and a polite gesture.

“Yes.” Harry breathed and then they were kissing. He’d never kissed anyone before so he was pretty nervous about not being good at it. That and any other coherent thought was swiftly swept away by V’s lips, he was devouring Harry. He flung his arms around V’s neck to pull them impossibly closer and V responded by lifting Harry up and setting him against the railing. He felt something stroke at his lip and then it was being bitten just hard enough to make him gasp, his opened mouth clearly an invitation to V as his tongue began to coax Harry’s into playing. 

They pulled apart and even though Harry could see the mischief in V’s eyes, he still wanted more. “Err. So yeah, I’d better get going before the Floo closes for the night.” Harry reluctantly hopped off the balcony ledge. “Walk with me?” He asked, knowing that V would be insufferable in his teasing all the way to the Floo but still wanting to spend more time with the man. 

As predicted, V’s small pout at Harry leaving turned back into his smirk. “Of course, darling. You won’t be rid of me so easily.” They began to meander back inside, Harry noticed that the musicians were beginning to pack up and the guests were almost all through the Floos now. Even if he sort of wished that V and him could have just kept making out on the balcony, he was glad they wouldn’t be caught by some staff member trying to usher out the few remaining guests that had clearly had too much to drink that they didn’t recognize the social que to leave after the final song. 

Before they reached the Floo room, as it was heavily charmed for privacy so no one would overhear another’s destination, Harry made sure to thank V for a lovely time. He also stumblingly thanked him for the first kiss which made V look down at him sharply, giving Harry the perfect opening to lean up and softly kiss the man’s cheek. He then strode away, leaving V to stare at his back, uncomprehending of what just happened. Harry quickly Flooed back to Hogwarts, said his goodnights to the headmaster who had been waiting past his own return to make sure Harry came back okay, and started the trek back up to Gryffindor Tower. 

As the portrait swung open, revealing his two best friends waiting in “their spot”, Harry couldn’t help but to feel warm. This was the perfect way to end the night, to spend a bit of time with the two people he’s closest to in the world and unwind from the thrill of the ball. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three weeks. That’s how long Voldemort had been thinking of the little minx he met the night of the ball. Granted, it was three weeks since the ball itself so it would make sense that that was how long he’d been thinking of Ry for. Voldemort could admit that he became rather obsessive once something managed to catch his interest. Not that many things managed to hit that very high standard, so far it was only magic for the sake of magic, and immortality that had garnered his attention in such a way. 

Voldemort knew he’d need to find some way to meet with the boy again, and that is what he had to be, though the Dark Lord didn’t exactly know that at first. He’d thought the pretty little thing would be an interesting pastime, just a palette cleanser after dealing with his minions for so long. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Ry was also an interesting person as well as a respite from idiocy. He hadn’t been exactly joking about wanting to snatch the boy away, though after that kiss the idea may have been less innocent than he’d intended originally. 

He knew he was falling into a, by now familiar, pit of obsession, he’d compiled all the information he’d managed to glean from their conversation. Voldemort was hoping to find some connection to learning Ry’s true identity though that seemed to be coming to a dead end. He’d have to find some way to get the ministry to host another anonymous event, with all the same guests just in case they try to cheat him out of the whole reason for a soiree. Yes, that could work. Voldemort leapt into action, summoning Lucius to take a message to the Minister. Well, it would go through several owls but the point was that the note would be sent, kindly requesting another event, just to make sure that the Dark could begin to consider not eviscerating everyone else. 

“My Lord.” Lucius intoned, bowing lowly as he ought to. 

“Lucius, you will be writing to the Minister. There will be another anonymous event, I do not care what it will be. All of the same guests will be invited. I want everything to be organized by Yule.” 

“Yes my Lord, is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“No, get this done now.” The Dark Lord dismissed Malfoy with a sharp wave of his hand. The man bowed again before leaving. Left to his thoughts, Voldemort was hard pressed to keep them away from Ry. He knew the following weeks would be torturous. Torture. He could pass the time that way, he supposed. After all it was one of his favorite hobbies, yes, that decides it. He was going to go acquire a few new playthings and spend the rest of the month in the dungeons. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This year was torture. First, Harry had to deal with Umbridge, and her faux girlish giggles as she forced him to slice up the back of his hand. Even knowing that Voldemort was back, a good part of the ministry apparently still had a grudge against their ‘dramatizing chosen one’. Secondly, there was the fact that all of his friends had miraculously grown hormones overnight it seemed, as they were all connecting in new and far more physical ways. And finally, there were the taunts the rest of the Gryffindors and anyone else who knew, which at this point was almost the whole school, that Harry Potter had come back after the peace-seeking ball with swollen lips and a dopey grin. Obviously that meant that he was going to shack up with some high ranking Death Eater or worse, Voldemort himself. Rumours truly were the bane of the boy-who-lived’s existence. 

Harry had gotten a note from the Headmaster earlier that morning warning him that he would be receiving another invitation. Apparently some knob-end in the Ministry decided that just one peace seeking event couldn’t be enough to really show the Dark why they shouldn’t murder a majority of the Wixen World, again. So now there was going to be a gala. Not that Harry knew what a gala was exactly. He knew that it sounded fancy and therefore decided to go bother Ron into asking his posh friends for help, yet again. 

Harry had never been more grateful that Ron Weasley had decided to sit with him on the Hogwarts Express. He had no clue what he would be doing to prepare for a gala without the help of Ron’s friends. After Harry had found Ron playing chess with Neville, and bribing him into bothering his friends yet again, a grumpy Ron had dropped off a packet of information for Harry that evening before they went to bed. He was grumbling about how it seemed he only ever spoke about Harry in the comparatively rare moments they got to spend together, wanting to go back to just chatting and playing chess with those friends instead of solving Harry’s crises. 

Harry swore to himself that he’d do something really nice to make it up to Ron. He wasn’t sure exactly what yet, but it would be really really good. At least he hoped so, as he didn’t want to put a strain on their friendship. When Harry got a chance to look through the pack of notes, he was quite amazed at how much information they had compiled together into it. There were notes about what sort of entertainment might be there, as apparently a gala was a social event with performers. There were also notes about what he might consider wearing, things to be absolutely sure to not say or do, and even a note advising him to eat lightly that day, as there would likely be a plethora of new and interesting foods that Harry should try. 

The following day he took the notes on attire to Lavender and Pavarti; they had again promised to help him. They took some notes themselves, pushed and prodded at him, and declared that he would be meeting them that weekend in Hogsmeade to buy a new set of dress robes. Thankfully they didn’t laugh too hard when he asked what was wrong with the ones he’d just gotten for the ball. They just waved him away and went back to reading whichever magazine was currently popular, Harry himself would be hard pressed to know. 

The winter holidays were quickly upon them. Harry was going to Grimmauld Place to spend some time with his godfather, while his friends would be going home to their respective families. In the months between the beginning of school and the first break, Hermione had managed to wrangle Harry into teaching a Defense class to those who wanted to get some hands on training. After all, Umbridge was less than useless. She was actively making it harder for those who would be taking their OWLs and NEWTs to confidently say they could pass. 

Harry was enjoying teaching his year-mates and those in the surrounding years, though he couldn’t help much with the older ones besides having them actually master the easier subjects. Considering their previous teachers, it was rarer than he’d like for someone to be able to consistently and accurately cast most of the basic spells in Defense. Even professor Lupin, who he still greatly respected and admired, didn’t focus much on spell work. He tended to aim towards teaching about creatures and what to do around them, which was mostly physical things like breaking a grindelow’s fingers versus the  _ riddikulus  _ charm which would defeat a boggart. 

Since he was going to Grimmauld, Harry was hoping to run into the professor so he could get a few tips and tricks for teaching. He was doing his best, but that’s not to say he couldn’t be working to be better. He was also looking forward to just spending time with his godfather, getting to know him better and maybe, if he was lucky, hear some stories about his mum as well as his dad. 

When he arrived it was to chaos. Tonks had apparently tripped over the troll’s leg umbrella stand for the umpteenth time, causing Mrs. Black’s portrait to scream like a banshee. This brought Sirius up from the basement kitchen where it looked as though he’d been making some kind of a mess, as he was mostly covered in flour among other things. His mother of course took the opportunity to yell cruel things at him, about how he was less than nothing, and he rose to the occasion and began to shout back about how she was a cruel bitch and he would be burning the whole house down around her before she knew it. 

This all unfolded in a matter of minutes, Harry only had time to open the door and enter the hall before being reduced to staring at the unimaginable sight before him. He wished the hall could be just a bit wider, so he could creep by unannounced and get upstairs without turning the attentions of anyone onto himself. But, unfortunately, even accidental magic wouldn’t be able to help him, as home renovations were a bit of a stretch, even for someone with a decent amount of power. 

The days that followed went along a similar vein, there wasn’t much relaxing to do around Grimmauld. It seemed that Tonks was dropping by for this or that every day, always tripping over something though it was mostly that umbrella stand. Sirius said she only was coming by to ogle his boyfriend, and wasn’t that a surprise. Harry knew the two were dear friends at least but he hadn’t really thought about any of the adults in his life as having romantic partners. He was absolutely happy that they had found each other again, if only for the support they were able to give one another. 

Since Sirius would rather die than get up before noon, Harry was able to pick Remus’s brain a fair bit in the mornings. He started just with asking for advice about teaching and how to best help the DA, but that quickly moved into him asking questions about his parents, and their times at school together. Harry still got to spend a fair bit of time with his godfather, and they did have some good days together, laughing over take-out boxes and old stories. He’d shared the tales of his previous years at Hogwarts, something that may not have been his best idea. He hadn’t really thought about what a parental figure might think of him having to face down a troll, or go traipsing through the Forbidden Forest for a detention. 

They were completely shocked to say the least. Their adventures apparently were nowhere near as life-threatening as Harry’s. Even if they took into account the fact that three of them ran with the fourth as a werewolf every month for years, it still didn’t match up in their eyes. They’d burst out with, “How could Albus allow this?” and “What was so and so thinking!” in regards to each twisted tale of the school year Harry told them. He wondered how the Weasleys and Grangers reacted, and whether his friends had even told them exactly what happened when they went to school. 

The Weasleys wound up coming around for Christmas dinner, Mrs. Weasley having taken over the kitchen the evening before. She had made a huge turkey, tons of mashed potatoes, swede, roasted parsnips, plenty of boiled cabbage and brussel sprouts, and a few Christmas cakes to finish off the meal. There were crackers at every place setting just like there would be in Hogwarts. Harry and Sirius had spent a good few days putting up decorations to show a bit of Christmas spirit, the house was in dire need of some cheer in its dark atmosphere. Remus had even made noises about keeping some of the fairy lights and other bits of shiny glamour up year ‘round, just to brighten things up a bit. 

The trio opened gifts before the Weasleys were due over, Sirius had told them he wanted to do it as a family first and then trade gifts with the others later. Harry had given Remus an interesting book, since they’d spoken about his hobbies and reading muggle fiction was one of them. For Sirius, Harry had gotten some newer albums that were very popular according to Hermione. He knew he’d heard some of the songs just by virtue of existing in the muggle world, especially having Dudley in the room next to his every summer, but he wasn’t exactly knowledgeable. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following weeks were a blur of classes, detentions, and preparations. His hand was becoming more and more scarred as the weeks went on, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now. It was easy enough for McGonagall to say “keep your head down,” but it was quite another for Harry to actually be able to do it. After all, being targeted didn’t exactly give you a choice in the matter, as Harry could attest to on multiple fronts. 

Before he knew it Imbolc was upon them, and Harry was being trussed up again for the gala. Lavender and Pavarti followed a similar routine to the previous dressing, meaning that he took over an hour to be deemed ready. The robes he’d acquired this time were more flowing, with cinches to show off his “assets” as the girls called them. There was a green sash that matched his eyes perfectly wound around his torso. The girls said that it helped against the monochrome charcoal robes he was wearing, after all he shouldn’t be too plain or he might not catch the eye of whoever he met with last time. The last of that was said with a rather exaggerated wink from Lavender while Pavarti just smirked at Harry’s blush. 

Harry headed up to the headmaster’s office. He once again went through the floo, still stumbling out the other end. The gala was going to be held in the same hall as the ball, so thankfully he knew which direction to head in without following the crowds so much. Harry wasn’t sure exactly what would be happening besides food and some form of entertainment, but he was looking forward to it a lot more than he had the ball. Especially since he was hoping to find V again. He took a mask the attendant handed to him, slipping it over his face as he entered the ballroom. 

If he’d thought opulence was an appropriate word before, it was nothing compared to the room before him. There was an explosion of colour, rich jewel tones and golden spires decorating the room with velvet accessories everywhere. There were well dressed and scantily clad performers and servers wandering around. A few of the dancers had already begun their show, even though they’d be performing throughout the night. It looked like there were no house elves in sight, unlike at the ball where they had been passing around drinks and later serving dinner. 

There were a few places to sit, though they resembled lounges more than anything. There were fainting couches surrounded by armchairs and elegant but stiff throne-like seats all mixed to create open spaces for people to rest. Harry was more interested in the entertainment that was interspersed throughout the vast hall. He was looking at a woman who seemed to be swallowing swords that had bluebell flames, like the ones Hermione made to keep them warm in winter, engulfing them. As he wandered around the room, he tried to pay attention, to see if he could find V before the man found him. 

It would seem that luck, not the Potter kind, was smiling down on him that evening. Just as he was declining a beverage from a server, he happened upon V. The man looked as dashing as ever, his perfectly coiffed hair with a single curl loose over his face that just made him want to reach out and brush it away, or mess up the man’s hair, Harry couldn’t tell which desire was stronger. V was wearing a simple but very well tailored suit, deep black with red lining that seemed to warm the man’s complexion. Now that he’d found him, Harry wasn’t sure how to approach the man. He’d had a lot of fun flirting with and getting to know V, and he absolutely enjoyed their kisses at the end of the evening, but he was still in entirely new territory. 

After hovering on the edges for a moment, he decided to buck up his Gryffindor courage and just get in there. Squaring his shoulders, Harry made his way through the crowd surrounding V, it seemed that he was charming the others while he got information, based on the snippets Harry could hear. There were people telling V about how the Minister depended on them for this, and Dumbledore asked them to look into that. All of this was wildly exaggerated to make the teller seem like the best, most important person. But there were small hints of truth to the matter as well, Harry knew that Dumbledore had asked someone to look into certain issues for the war effort, and the Minister was rather dependent on others to help him. 

As Harry got closer to the center, V looked up and their eyes met. A wicked grin forming on the man’s face as he caught the object of his obsession coming toward him. He made his excuses to those he had been trying to charm and manipulate, quite successfully he might add. Voldemort met Harry in the middle, grabbing the younger and escorting him over to one of the throne-like chairs, gesturing that he take the lounge chair closest to the throne he decided to claim. The Dark Lord could see that the young man was reluctant to sit down when there were so many things to see and experience, he could understand that. After all, in his youth he had taken to travel and exploration before finally coming home to settle down, take over the Wixen World, just enjoy the small things in life. 

When Harry did finally join him in sitting down, V immediately started with the flirting. Harry could tell that he was angling for something though, the man seemed to be pushing for more information from him. When Harry was beginning to feel overwhelmed at the onslaught, V just said how he missed his “darling” which made Harry’s face turn as red as a Weasley’s hair and stumble through agreeing with V. He definitely couldn’t stop thinking about the older man either, but he wasn’t pushing for more. Harry was content enough to just enjoy the time they had together and see what happened next. After all, there could be another event called for in the future, allowing the two to meet again. He wasn’t sure exactly why the Dark had asked for the gala in the first place, just that it was them who called for it unlike with the ball which the Ministry was fully responsible for. What is Voldemort had found someone, the thought made him snort out loud. 

“I didn’t realize I was telling jokes?” V’s was focused wholly on Harry, making him incredibly embarrassed that his thoughts had been wandering so much. 

“Oh no! I’m sorry, I just had a weird thought sneak in.”

“Well? I could always do with a laugh, Ry.”

“Er it’s nothing particularly funny, I was just wondering why the Dark decided to push for another anonymous event and that led to thoughts about how Voldemort might have found someone. But it was just a silly thought. After all, people say he tends to isolate himself and that if you’re not useful, you’re nothing to him.” Harry noticed that V’s expression became more and more sour as he spoke, so he found himself babbling, trying to make it better and failing. 

“Ry, you’re obviously on the Light side. But what do you really know about the Dark Lord? Sure it’s easy for people to say that he’s heartless or that he only sees others as tools. But how can you know that? For all you know he could have friends, family, a lover even.”

“I know you don’t know who I am V. That you’ve been trying to find out ways to catch my identity tonight, for some reason. But don’t push this. You have no idea what shit has happened in my life because of that man. And I know I’m not the only one. There are full families that are dead because of him. Wixen as a people suffered a huge population drop that, without an influx of fresh blood so to speak, could cause the british society to die out. My friend Her… Hermes has been researching this for a while now, reaching out to others and hopes to conduct some experiments to see just how badly the previous war affected our society.” 

V’s small, “what can you do” smile had grown to be more and more menacing as Harry’s speech went on. He could see that the man was holding himself back from having a full on argument with him. And wasn’t it just twisted that Harry found himself becoming more and more attracted to him. He knew he didn’t want a partner that would just readily agree with him, but he had thought it would be a bit of a turn off if the person he was considering disregarded human lives in such a way. He could feel his link with Voldemort burning, but not in the typical painful way that made him grab his head when it felt like hot knives. No, this was much worse. It teased and coiled around him, brushing against his senses in an overtly sensual manner. Wherever Voldemort was, he was feeling very playful which was entirely new for Harry. He’d seen rage and anger in so many shades that experiencing something that isn’t dark glee but still on that side of the emotional spectrum, well it frankly weirded him out. 

Harry took a calming breath, he didn’t want Voldemort’s emotions to sway him into doing anything he’d regret. Not realizing he’d shut his eyes until he opened them again, he focused to see V leaning over him, eyes alight with concern. “Ry? Are you alright? I tried calling your name but you seemed to disappear on me for a moment.”

“Sorry about that, just a weird thing that happens sometimes. It’s nothing.” He couldn’t exactly tell the man that he was concentrating on his connection to Voldemort, now could he? That would lead V right to his identity after all, something he still wanted to avoid. Especially now that he knew for a fact that he was on the other side and would definitely be remaining there. “How about we drop this for now and go see what’s available? I’ve been dying to know what exactly a gala is and I’d love to see with you.” 

After V agreed to let matters lie, they wandered the hall. Taking in the sights together, and just enjoying the other’s company for the evening. V kept grabbing things he felt that Harry would enjoy from the many servers that they passed. There were so many different foods that Harry had no idea how to go about naming them all. He was rather sheltered in a culinary sense, Hogwarts tended to stick to a typical british fare and his relatives weren’t exactly adventurous. Not that they would have shared any meals with him beyond the cheap tins of soup his aunt picked up at the grocers or any foods that Dudley and Uncle Vernon refused, rare as that may be. Regardless, he was intrigued to try all the different things V brought to him. 

There were canapes of so many different types, some with puff pastry others with little crackers, all of them were a delicious little bite. There were little skewers with fruits and meats that he was a little leery of, but wound up being amazingly complimentary. Harry had to say his favourite was the tartlets with a rich cheese and smoked meat, they were spelled to stay just warm enough that the tart melted in your mouth but not so hot that you burnt your tongue. 

When they were sated, they found themselves stopping at different entertainers’ areas. Looking at the fire dancers and clapping along with musicians. If there had been no magic in the hall, Harry imagined it would be utter chaos, so many different sounds and senses being overwhelmed had there not been wards surrounding each section, encasing the noise and light so it didn’t ruin other performances. Harry was excited to see the next acts, grabbing V’s hand and pulling him from space to space. They watched jugglers, contortionists, illusionists, and even a snake charmer. Though he did have to be careful not to speak while looking at the snake, as he didn’t really want to out himself via parseltongue. 

They made light conversation, not venturing back into any territory that could get them arguing again. They only had such a short time together that both knew it would be a waste to spend it on harsh words. Though, Voldemort did continue to try and get as much information as he could out of Ry. The Dark Lord was adamant that he would have the knowledge he needed to find the boy before the night was through. He did find himself learning a fair bit between the words shared. They spoke of Hogwarts and preferences, what they’d like to do should the Ministry’s efforts succeed and the war end quickly. Voldemort found himself sharing his travels from his youth, stories of discovering magics long ignored by many in Wixen Britain. They even dipped their toes into their escapades in romance, rather Ry shared an edited version of the love note story from his second year and V likewise changed up some facts from his own unromantic dealings. Seeing the shade Ry flushed was something Voldemort wasn’t wanting to give up, it looked rather fetching on him after all. 

The couple wandered up and down the hall, honestly more focused on one another than the sights around them. Though, it did help smooth the conversation, having new bits and bobs to point out every time there was a pause. Harry felt that it wouldn’t be bad for them to embrace the silence, he didn’t think there would be an awkward tension, just peace. But he did understand that neither of them really wanted to get lost in that when there was so little time for them. The gala would be drawing to a close before too much longer, they’d already spent so long just eating and watching. Harry was a little disappointed that they hadn’t had an opportunity to kiss like they did at the ball, but he had enjoyed everything else so much that it was barely a blip on his radar. 


	2. Chapter Two

Harry had been very pleased to note that he hadn’t been receiving any visions of murder or mayhem from Voldemort recently. Maybe the Ministry’s plans were actually doing something for a change, though he rather doubted that and was more likely to chalk it up to coincidence. In fact the only times he really saw into the bane of his existence’s brain were when he was concentrating on something. Harry could always see sheafs of parchment, some of which contained details and questions that seemed to pertain to him. After all how many people live in cupboards- something Voldemort had underlined several times in what appeared to be rage.

Harry could only assume that Voldemort was plotting something nefarious, as he was wont to do. What else could he be doing with lists about Harry Potter, the boy he seemed determined to kill.

Voldemort had written down everything he could think of that Ry told him over their encounters. Whether that was with his actions or words didn’t matter, any information that would potentially find him was listed. He wasn’t sure he would get away with ordering his minions to set another event up, so he’d have to make sure to find his Ry soon. Every day he woke on dreams of the young man, he’d obsessively played through the memories of their kisses from the ball again and again. Every word scrutinized for hidden depth, every glance feverishly examined. He needed to find his Ry, he’d resort to any magics necessary to do it.

He’d already noticed after their first meeting a slowing down of any world domination plans. Now that he’d seen him again, Voldemort was unable and unwilling to tear his thoughts away. It seemed that his Inner Circle had still been making movements to carry out any previous orders. Thankfully they didn’t dare try for insurrection, he was distracted enough that they may have gotten further than he’d like. Not that he’d have let them succeed, no. But he could have lost a fair few more followers than his side in the war could afford.

As they often did, his thoughts circled back to the object of his obsession. He found himself wondering what Ry was doing, where he was, and how he would react to finding out that the man he’d spent those lovely evenings with was The Dark Lord. Voldemort figured that his little darling would be shocked, he could just about see those verdant eyes widening in shock when he focused his mind. Unfortunately for the Dark Lord, he was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when his mind reached out along the connection he shared with the Boy-Who-Lived.

A certain Chosen One was in a similar situation. No he wasn’t plotting the hypothetical deaths of his followers for pushing him too far. Rather, he was thinking about V. As he’d found himself doing alarmingly frequently since he’d met the tall, handsome man. Now he couldn’t say that he was imagining revealing his identity and what that would entail. He was imagining a more… intimate reveal. That just so happened to include the balcony that featured strongly in daydreams recently.

Harry was stunned to say the least when his imaginings shifted around him. He was no longer clinging tightly to a rock-hard chest with the open air and a hundred foot drop behind him. No, he was suddenly seated far more properly in one of the chairs from the Gala. It seemed to be the one he’d shared with V that night, chatting about everything and nothing before they moved to the Floos to say their goodbyes for the evening. He absolutely did not let out a squeak when the jarring shift ended. Not at all.

Anyway, even if he did happen to make a manly noise of surprise, who wouldn’t? Going from daydreaming about V to being somewhere else entirely, and alone at that. Or, maybe not? Harry heard sharp, sure footsteps approach. Whoever it was behind him, they were walking confidently, leisurely. There was no hurried rush to get to him but they weren’t hesitant at all either.

The strangest thing about the new situation he was in was that it felt so real. Before, on the balcony, Harry knew that it was just his imagination running wild. This felt more like he’d been slapped awake, he was reeling from the shift still but there was no difference between this and actual reality-aside from location of course. The person finally made their way to the side of the chair Harry was in. He turned towards the tall, imposing figure next to him. It was V, but he wasn’t wearing a mask. “V? But how…?” Harry paused, puzzling over what exactly was happening here, when something clicked. V was looking very familiar, not unlike the apparition inside a certain diary from a few years ago. Harry almost would think this was the same man with a couple of years added on if that wasn’t entirely impossible. There was just no way that the handsome man Harry had danced with, spoken with, kissed could be Voldemort.

On the other hand, V was looking rather disturbed himself at that moment. When the bane of his existence called out the little moniker that he’d gifted to his Ry, he could honestly say for the first time in a long time that he was surprised. Shocked even. Just under the jaw-dropping level, thankfully, or he’d have to kill any witnesses regardless of who they were. Harry Potter was Ry. The sweet, admittedly too young man that he’d become enthralled with was the boy prophesized to bring him down. He didn’t know how to feel about this. One side of him was enraged, wanting to crush and destroy the little thing in front of him, so he wouldn’t have to admit any form of attraction. The other side still wanted to clutch and hide away the precious gem he’d claimed.

Harry jolted awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies that it's fairly short. I couldn't make the "big reveal" fit well otherwise so shortie this time!


End file.
